“I’m gonnae make ye feel good, Eithne,” he said, running his other hand enticingly up and down her inner thigh. “I’m gonnae drive ye as mad as I’ve been since I saw ye bathing that day.”
“Ye saw…” she started, but suddenly a bolt of pleasure made her thoughts go blank as his fingers brushed the secret spot at the top of her entrance. “Ivor.”
“Do ye want me to stop?” he asked roughly.
“Dinnae. Never.”
It was dark, but she still made out his grin. Then he’d grabbed her firmly by the hips, her ankles still on his shoulders, and bent his head to work.
Oh!
She’d never felt like this before, never even close, and the second his tongue stroked against her softest parts, she felt like her body was on fire. Ivor licked and kissed and gently sucked, exploring facets of her that she had barely known existed until now. Every time he brushed hard against the top, she felt her eyes roll back in her head.
Blindly, she reached down, grabbing his hair as he worked between her legs. She let out tiny little mewling sounds, tugging at his hair so tight that she must have been hurting him, but he just growled against her. The animalistic sound made her want more of him, more, and his tongue moved faster.
“Ivor,” she panted. She wanted to say more, but she’d forgotten all else. Right now, there was only him and what he was doing to her, the indescribable pleasure he was giving her, and the strange new feeling building so heavily in her groin that she thought she might explode if she didn’t release soon. “Ivor.Ivor.”
One of his hands released her hips, sliding upwards under the shirt. He found her breast and started to gently stroke and pull and tease in time with his movements at her core. Eventually, his gentleness became harder, more insistent, pulling and tugging. At the same time, his tongue worked below, and his other hand moved to slide two fingers deep inside her.
She writhed against him, lost in the feeling, and that new pressure built up and up and up until…
“Ivor!” she screamed. Her whole body tightened as pleasure overwhelmed her, freedom of a release so intense that she barely felt present in the room anymore. The exquisite feeling was so satisfying it was painful. She rode the wave, never wanting to land again.
As she came down, though, it was slow and delicious. Every one of her muscles slowly relaxed one by one, leaving her with a lingering sense of satisfaction in every extremity. Ivor moved, wiping his mouth and then shifting up the bed so that he once again lay next to her on the pillow.
“Good?” he asked softly.
“I’ve never…I dinnae even…” she muttered. She reached out and touched Ivor’s face, her fingers brushing the soft bristles of his beard.
“Dinnae think ye owe me a thing, Eithne,” he assured her. “I just wanted to give ye joy.”
“I dinnae feel like I owe ye anything,” she said, and then she was pulling him closer, kissing him. It was a gentle kiss at first, but it awakened the feeling deep within her quickly this time, and soon she was insistently pulling him closer.
Atop her once more, he grabbed her hands as she scrambled at the tie on his shirt. “Are ye sure?” he murmured.
“Let me have ye,” she whispered in a near plea. “Please, Ivor. We need each other.”
He moved achingly slowly after that, first removing his own shirt and kicking off his smallclothes. Then went the spare shirt she’d been wearing as a dress this whole time. The cold night air prickled at Eithne’s skin, but not as much as his lips and skin did as he slowly explored her like a man in worship.
He spent quite some time at her breasts, working her up again so much that she soon felt that pressure building once more. When she mewled his name, she felt his whole-body shudder.
He pressed against her then, and when their bare chests touched, she gasped once again. His skin against her skin, his touch against her – how had she ever survived without it?
“Are ye ready?” he muttered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her ear.
“I trust ye, and I need ye,” she replied. She gripped his waist with one hand, the other going to his member to help him as he slowly guided himself inside her.
She’d never felt such fullness as when they joined, his manhood fitting inside her already-prepared entrance like it was always meant to be there. It was tight at first but not painful as she’d expected, and she shuddered as he moved deeper.
He started to rock, slowly at first. Every gentle stroke of him was already driving her near madness. Impatient, now, she grabbed at his hips, pulling him closer, deeper. She wrapped her legs around his waist. “Dinnae be gentle,” she pleaded.
He growled that animalistic roar that had excited her so much before, and he started moving in earnest. Their bodies danced together, him thrusting into her harder and harder, her hips bucking up to meet him with every movement.
Their hands and lips frantically explored, touching and kissing and grabbing wherever they could touch or taste without breaking the rhythm of their bodies. Eithne was lost in him, lost with him, her entire being focused on how they felt together.
The building felt more potent, more intense than last time, and she moved more quickly in response. Her hands scrabbled against Ivor frantically, and he trembled and did the same.
She could feel him building toward something too, and that excited her. They moved and touched and kissed until, once again, she gave way to exquisite pleasure that made her entire body tense and then released. She hadn’t even finished yet when she felt something warm inside her and heard him cry out her name in ecstasy.
